


wherever you are, whenever it's right (you'll come out of nowhere and into my life)

by lettersfromnowhere



Series: Just Haven’t Met You Yet [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Even more tooth-rotting fluff, F/M, High School AU, I wasn't kidding about tooth-rotting fluff guys, Reunions, actually wouldn't this be a college AU now?, coming home from college, no one asked for this but i did it anyway, this is kind of a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 05:56:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14888906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettersfromnowhere/pseuds/lettersfromnowhere
Summary: Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.OR: the completely and totally unasked-for follow-up to "I guess it's half timing (and the other half's luck)" in the form of a coming-home-from-college oneshot.





	wherever you are, whenever it's right (you'll come out of nowhere and into my life)

**Author's Note:**

> HI FRIENDS! 
> 
> As I said in the tags: no one asked for this, but I did it anyway. I hope you enjoy this very strange, very incoherent, and disgustingly fluffy oneshot. I was told that the ending of the high school AU fic whose title I am too lazy to type out again was very open-ended, and I legitimately did not intend for that to happen, so I figured I'd clarify that yes, these dorks actually do get their happy ending. 
> 
> Title is from "Just Haven't Met You Yet" (same song as the title of the original was taken from).

Gamora stepped off of the jetway into what felt like a wall of humid summer air, descending over everyone around like a sticky, suffocating blanket. She let out a long sigh, at once relieved and loath to return home. She’d miss Caltech dearly, she already knew, and returning to her father was never a cheerful prospect. But she’d missed her sister, her friends, and especially –

“’Mora?” A familiar voice, almost disbelieving ( _why? I told him my flight number!)_ , called out across the gate. Pushing a stray earbud back into her ear, he looked up from her battle with an uncooperative suitcase and couldn’t help but smile at the sight that greeted her.

 Peter stood at the edge of the gate with an industrial-sized bag of M&Ms and an utterly _overcome_ expression on his face.

 Finding herself tongue-tied in the presence of the person she’d missed so ferociously these past months, Gamora made her way to him (running would be too conspicuous, she decided) and found herself immediately enfolded in his arms, his cheek pressed against her hair, holding her like a lone piece of driftwood in the remains of a shipwreck. “I missed my girl,” he mumbled into her hair, looking suspiciously watery-eyed.

“I missed you too,” she replied, rubbing circles on his back in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. Taken off-guard by his overwhelming emotion at seeing her again, she hoped she could at least prevent him from bursting into tears in public. They pulled apart after what felt like a year in each other’s arms and for a moment they just looked at each other, as if unsure how to proceed.”

 “Hey, you still have it!” Peter broke the silence, gesturing towards the orange cord of Gamora’s earbuds.

 “Did you _seriously_ think I would let this thing out of my sight?” Gamora asked, incredulous, as she pulled the antiquated iPod Shuffle Peter had given her at graduation out of your pocket.

 “I mean, it’s old and beat-up, so I wasn’t-“

“That thing was your _prized possession._ Did you expect for a second that I’d treat it as anything else?” Gamora inquired. “Yeah. No.”

 “Um, thanks…” Peter trailed off. “Anyway. So, wanna go to baggage claim? That…seems like a good idea,” he suggested lamely.

 “That’s where I was heading,” she confirmed, resetting her usual businesslike demeanor. “Also, I’m sorry about-“

 Peter shook his head and cut her off before she could finish. “If you think you have _anything_ to apologize for, I will not hesitate to shut you up.”

 “First of all, and _let me finish this time,_ I’m sorry about the whole Christmas debacle.” She raised her hands defenselessly. “I wasn’t exactly expecting my father to try to run over the first guy I brought home with a golf cart.”

“Not your fault,” he insisted. “So your dad has some screws loose. So what? I don’t exactly care who your parents are. And,” he continued, smiling brazenly, “I could outrun a golf cart any day of the week."

 “Okay, aside from the fact that I would pay good money to see that,” Gamora replied, picturing Peter trying to outrun her father’s golf cart and trying very hard not to laugh, “I have another…pressing…question.”

 “Yeesss…?” Peter asked.

 “You mentioned that you would, and I quote, ‘not hesitate to shut me up.’ How,” Gamora challenged, “would you manage that?”

 “I have my methods,” Peter teased.

 “Oh really?” She raised one eyebrow and shot him a skeptical sidelong glance. He stopped walking, a satisfied smirk on his face. “What methods?”

 “Well, I could always juuuust…” Peter trailed off, fluidly circling one arm around her waist and pulling her into him. She smirked. _This is going to get…interesting._  
           

“I would like to remind you that I’m still talking, so clearly, this tactic is faulty,” Gamora teased, draping her arms around his neck and narrowing the already-miniscule gap between their faces.

 “Shh. Let the master work,” Peter replied, not missing a beat, and leaned in, every parted moment melting away as he kissed her for all he was worth.

 “Peter! We are in _public!”_ Gamora hissed as he pulled away, putting up her disgruntled front even as her flushed cheeks and flustered demeanor all but voided any attempts on her part to look composed.

 “You know you loved it.”

“Maybe,” Gamora admitted sheepishly. Peter wrapped his arm around her shoulders (tall as she was, he made her look tiny, and she couldn’t say she didn’t enjoy it).

“It’s good to be back,” he told her.

 “Yeah, it is, mostly,” she agreed. “You seen any of your other friends yet?”

 “Oh, yeah! Ran into a guy from the football team – Jacob, you probably know him, junior with an ego the size of Texas – at the grocery store. That was _fun,”_ Peter related sarcastically. “All I wanted was a box of pizza rolls, and instead I got forced social interaction with a guy I can’t stand! That was great.”

“Watch me somehow manage to see Michael in a public place,” Gamora sighed, dreading any potential sightings of possibly the most irritating person in her graduating class. “Would you happen to have seen my sister?”

 “No, but you know how I got that job at the weird hipster juice store downtown?” Peter asked.

 “Yes...?” Gamora answered, wondering why anyone had thought Peter was a suitable candidate for work at an upscale pressed juice store.

 “Apparently Mantis likes lemongrass juice. Well, either that, or she wants to see me, because she’s been there, like, six times since I started working,” he sighed, trying to hide his amusement. “Keeps asking me about you.”

 Gamora shook her head fondly. Mantis was not one for subtlety. “Glad to hear she hasn’t changed,” she replied.

 “Nope, not at all. She called one of the other employees an ESTP, which, you know, she does that, but the girl had no idea what that meant, and she almost blew a gasket because she thought Mantis was somehow ‘insulting’ her. Public relations are definitely not her thing,” he shuddered.

 “Another thing I’d pay good money to see,” Gamora commented.

  “You know what _I’d_ pay good money to see?” Peter asked.

 “This can’t be good,” Gamora groaned. “What?”

 “I’d pay good money to see you kiss me again.”

 “You have to be kidding me,” Gamora sighed.

  “First of all, I think that bag is yours” – Peter pointed out an unmistakable bright orange suitcase on the baggage claim, perfectly coordinated with the rest of her luggage – “and second, nope, definitely not kidding.”

 “Dream on, Quill,” Gamora called back, pulling her bags from the conveyer belt. She hauled them over to where he stood with the rest of her suitcases.

 

Before she could talk herself out of it, she rose on her toes and quickly, lightly, fleetingly kissed him, pulling away with a saucy expression that seemed to leave Peter in some sort of shock.

 “I don’t think you know what ‘dream on’ means,” he called, chasing after her with every single piece of her luggage attached to some part of his body.

“It means whatever I want it to mean.”

 Gamora looked over her shoulder with a smirk and strode out the airport’s automatic sliding doors with a lightness she hadn’t felt in months. 

_I guess it is good to be back._

**Author's Note:**

> TBH I lowkey want to write that golf cart incident but I probably won't. (It was supposed to have happened over winter break - they saw each other, Gamora introduced Peter to her father, things went haywire.) 
> 
> And I hope this cleared things up, tooth-rotting fluff aside!


End file.
